farewell, and then stride light-heartedly over the ridge.

He was alone now with his secret and his treasure. The only man in
the world who knew of the exact position of his tunnel had gone
away forever. It was not likely that this chance companion of a
few weeks would ever remember him or the locality again; he would
now leave his treasure alone--for even a day perhaps--until he had
thought out some plan and sought out some friend in whom to
confide. His secluded life, the singular habits of concentration
which had at last proved so successful had, at the same time, left
him few acquaintances and no associates. And in all his well-laid
plans and patiently-digested theories for finding the treasure, the
means and methods of working it and disposing of it had never
entered.

And now, at the hour when he most needed his faculties, what was
the meaning of this strange benumbing of them!

Patience! He only wanted a little rest--a little time to recover
himself. There was a large boulder under a tree in the highway of
the settlement--a sheltered spot where he had often waited for the
coming of the stage-coach. He would go there, and when he was
sufficiently rested and composed he would go on.

Nevertheless, on his way he diverged and turned into the woods, for
no other apparent purpose than to find a hollow tree. "A hollow
tree." Yes! that was what Masters had said; he remembered it
distinctly; and something was to be done there, but what it was, or
why it should be done, he could not tell. However, it was done,
and very luckily, for his limbs could scarcely support him further,